Remembering To Breathe
by ThievesOverBullies
Summary: A/U-Robin Locksley likes it when a plan comes together. He just wasn't anticipating this one going this like.
1. Chapter 1

_**(A/N-Special thanks for Bekki for beta reading this. You are amazing and I thank you so much!)**_

 _ ***No disclaimer needed as I helped create Outlaw Queen***_

Robin Locksley loved it when a plan came together.

Not that he couldn't find pleasure in other, more everyday pursuits. He was more than partial to having a naked woman in his bed, and the more naked the woman the more partial he was inclined to be. Still nothing could beat the sheer unmitigated buzz that came from conceiving a plan so brilliant that it was so guaranteed not to happen, and then making it indeed happen.

All he needed was a wife.

He stepped away from his private jet into the mild misty rain of England, not that that would dampen his mood. He was so close to pulling off his greatest coup yet to all that to happen. He took a deep breath as he headed down the stairs towards his waiting car. Robin was meeting with a man that upon his agreement would put Archer Corporation, a company that was at the forefront of technology innovation, providing customers programmable solutions for leading-edge electronic systems that was shaping the modern world, into overdrive.

Given the high stakes, perhaps he should have seen this little complication coming. But if Lorenzo Malto, married nearly fifty years to his childhood sweetheart, had decreed that he would only do business with people of impeccable family credentials and values. Robin had one competitor with who he would have to do battle with to gain Malto's investment into Robin's company, Adam Deluder. And with Adam bringing along his own wife, clearly Robin would just have to find himself a wife as well.

Kind of ironic really, given how he'd avoided the institution with considerable success all these years. Women did not make the mistake of thinking there was any degree of permanence in the arrangement when they chanced to grace his arm or bed.

Not for long anyways.

But a one night wife? That much he could handle. The face he had to have one by eight tonight was no real problem.

Regina would soon find him someone suitable.

After all, it wasn't like he actually needed to get married. A fake fiancee would do just fine, a fiancee found after no doubt long years of searching for that perfect soul mate, Loranzo Malto would hardly hold the fact they hadn't as yet tied the knot against him, surely?

He had his phone in hand as he nodded to the waiting driver before getting into the limo, thankful they'd cleared customs when they had landed earlier, and already devising a mental note of the women's necessary attributes.

Clearly he didn't want just any woman. This one had to be defined, intelligent, and charming. The ability to hold a conversation desirable but not essential. It wouldn't necessarily matter if she couldn't, as long as she was able to play along.

Regina would no doubt be flicking through her contacts, turning up a suitable candidate, before she hung up the phone. Robin allowed himself a flicker of a smile as his driver pulled effortlessly into the endless stream of airport traffic.

Regina was his personal PA, who handled everything he needed with earth shattering efficiency. The woman was a marvel. He could only applaud whatever life changing event had caused her to move from her home in the states to England. Not that he even knew her age, now that he thought of it. He had Regina on the end of his email, texts constantly, and given the references she offered in her CV, she'd have to be in her mid forties at least.

He couldn't wait another second, so he called her, and was a little surprised that he got only her voicemail instead. He waited to see if she would pick up but when she didn't he started to talk, "Find me a woman for tonight-" and was cut off then.

"Damn," he said, thinking there was a reason he usually sent a text or email.

Regina Mills glanced at her clock and felt a shiver all down her spine.

Robin Locksley was here, in the town she lived in.

It made no difference reminding herself that it was illogical for her to feel this way. She had no reason, no reason at all, to feel worried. It wasn't like he'd asked her to meet him at the airport. In fact, he hadn't made any arrangements to meet her at all. She was his virtual PA, he paid her to run around on his behalf via the web, not wait on him hand and foot.

She had just come out of the shower in her flat when she heard his voice on her cell phone saying, "Find me a woman for tonight," and the composure she'd been battling to talk herself into shattered into a million pieces.

She stood there, rooted to the spot, staring at the phone as the call terminated, emotions warring for supremacy inside her. Fury. Outrage. Disbelief. All of them tangled in the barbed wire of something that pricked at her skin and deeper, something she couldn't quite, or didn't want to, put a name on.

She decided to go with fury.

Who the hell did Robin Locksley think he was?

And what the did he think she was? Some sort of pimp for his pleasure?

She knew he had his women. She arranged way too many parting gifts for all the Tiffanies, Amandas, Jessicas of the world, and all with the same parting message-

Thanks for your company,

Take care,

Robin.

To know he'd barely survive a night without a bed warmer. But just because he was in her home town it didn't mean he could expect her to find one. It had been lucky the machine had cut him off when it had or she might have been forced to pick up the receiver and tell him exactly what he could do with his demands, and that would be one way to terminate an income flow she had no way of replacing any time soon.

But then, did she really want to work for a man who asked her to get him a bed mate for the night? Maybe she should call and remind him of the duties she had, finding a bed mate not one of them.

But then she would have to speak to him. She usually dealt with his correspondence through texts and emails. Surely she wouldn't go weak at the knees at the sound of his voice?

But as she replayed his message of finding a woman, a tremor started going through her, tingling as it shot down her arms and legs. Damn! She finished getting dressed and headed to the kitchen.

Ten minutes and two cups of coffee later, she was in the process of finishing the dishes when her phone rung, she let it ring...

"Regina, it's Robin."

Regina admitted that even when he sounded on edge, he still had the most amazing voice. She could almost feel the stroke of it across her heated skin.

"I've sent you an email," Robin continued, "or half of one, but this is urgent and I really need to speak to you. If you are home, I need you to pick up the phone."

Annoyance slid down her spine. Of course it was urgent. Or it no doubt seemed urgent to Robin Locksley. A night without a woman to entertain him? It was inconceivable! It was also no concern of hers. And still the tingling sensation pricked her skin, and she wished he would just hang up the damn phone so she could breathe again.

"Damn it, Regina!" he growled, his voice a velvet glove over an iron fist the would wake up the dead, or Jefferson if he kept this up. "It's eleven in the morning on a Friday. Where the hell are you?"

She snatched up the phone and said, "I didn't realize that I was required to keep business office hours."

"Regina, thank god," he blew out, long and hard and clearly irritated. "Where the hell have you been? I tried to call you earlier."

"I know. I heard," she said bravely.

"You heard? Then why didn't you pick up? Or at least call me back?" Robin asked.

"Because I figured you were quite capable of finding someone in the Yellow Pages," Regina said.

"What is that supposed to mean, Regina?" Robin asked.

"I mean, I'll do all manner of work for you as contracted. I'll do your correspondence and manage your itinerary. I'll set up appointments, arrange meetings, and I'll even flick off your latest conquest with some dumb bauble, but don't expect me to act like some sort of pimp. As far as I recall, that wasn't one of the services I agreed to take on," Regina said.

"And you think I want you to find me someone to go to bed with?" he asked.

"What else was I to think after your message earlier?" Regina asked.

"You think I'm not capable of finding someone like that for my own?" Robin asked.

"I'm sure you are more than capable, given..." she mentally cursed herself for sparring with him like this.

"Given what, exactly?" he prompted. "Given the number of baubles I've had you send? Why, Regina, anyone would think you were jealous."

I am not jealous, she wanted to scream. I don't care who you sleep with. But even in her mind, the words rang hollow. Okay, maybe it was just curiosity. She took a deep breath before she continued, "I apologize. Clearly I misunderstood your message. What is it that I can do for you?"

"Simple," he said, "I just need you to find me a wife."

"Are you serious?"

"Would I be asking if I wasn't? And I need her in time for that dinner with Malto tonight. And she probably doesn't have to pretend to be a wife, a pretend fiancee should do nicely as well," he answered.

A moment of silence, then several passed as he was realized he was almost at his hotel, "Regina?"

"I'm here, though I'm still not sure I understand."

He sighed. What was so hard to understand? "Malto's feeling insecure about the to do business with a solid family people. Deluder is here as well with his wife, and I don't want to show up alone when we're all in the room with Malto. So I need you to find me someone who can pretend to be my fiancee for the night."

"I can see what you're trying to do," Regina said, "but what if Malto finds out? How will that look?"

"Choose the right woman, and that won't be an issue," he said. "It's only for one night after all. Are you anywhere near your email? I sent you an idea of what I'm looking for."

"Look, Mr. Locksley-" Regina began

"The name is Robin," he said.

"Okay, Robin, I appreciate that I got the wrong end of the stick before, but finding you someone to play fiancee, that's not exactly part of the service I offer," Regina said.

"No? Then let's make it part of them," Robin said.

"It's not actually that simple," Regina reminded him.

"Open your email," Robin said.

Regina rolled her eyes as she did as he requested, she found his email and started reading, "Charming, intelligent, classy."

Robin smiled as he thought that she was all those things. "Oh and I'll need you to brush her up on my company and Malto's as well, she'll also need to know something about me as well. You know the kind of stuff..."

And then it suddenly occurred to him what had been bothering him. "She said stuff like 'Are you serious?' in a voice that threaded with honey, and that put her age younger than he'd expected. A glimmer of inspiration told him that if she was, maybe his search for the perfect pretend fiancee was already over...

"How old are you, Regina?" Robin asked.

"Excuse me?" What did it matter what her age was?

"I had you pegged for middle aged, but you don't sound it. In fact, you sound much younger. So how old are you, Regina?" Robin asked.

"Is that entirely relevant right now?"

"It could be," though the way she was hedging he was pretty certain his question was unnecessary. At a guess he'd say she wasn't a day over thirty five. It was perfect really. So perfect that he was convinced it might have occurred to him if he hadn't assumed his virtual PA was a good ten years older.

"And dare I ask?" her voice was barely a whisper. "Why would that be?"

And he smiled, "Because if would be weird if my fiancee looked old enough to be my mother."


	2. Chapter 2

_**(A/N-Special thanks for Bekki for beta reading this. You are amazing and I thank you so much! Thank you all who read, review, follow and fav this. You liking this story is what keeps me going with it.)**_

 _ ***No disclaimer needed as I helped create Outlaw Queen***_

There was a silence on the other end of the line, a silence that was so heavy with suspicion that it almost oozed out of the phone. Then she finally spoke, "I don't follow you."

"It's quite simple," he said, his blood once again fizzing with the heady buzz of a plan coming together beautifully. "Are you doing anything for dinner tonight?"

"No. Rob-Mr. Locksley. No!" This could not be happening. There was no way she was going to dinner with Robin Locksley and pretend to be his fiancee. No way!

"Excellent," she heard him say through the mists of her panic. "I'll have my driver pick you up at seven."

"No! I meant yes, I'm busy. I meant no, I can't come," Regina clarified.

"Why? Is there a Mr. Mills I need to smooth things over with first?" Robin asked.

"No, but-"

"Then what's the problem?" Robin asked.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Tried to find the words with which to give her denial, words he might understand, before realizing she didn't have to justify her position to him. "I don't have to do this. And neither do you, for that matter. Mr. Malto knows you've only just in from overseas. Would he really be expecting you to display a fiancee at a business dinner?"

"But this is why it's so perfect, Regina. My fiancee happens to be here in England. What could be better?" Robin asked.

She shook her head. For her own benefit maybe, but it made her feel better. "It won't work. It can't."

"Regina," he said carefully, "it can work and it will. If you let it."

"Mr. Locksley-"

"One evening, Regina. Just one dinner," Robin said.

"But it's so deceiving. We would both be lying to everyone," Regina reminded him.

"I prefer to think of it as offering faith where faith is needed. And if Malto needs reassurance before finalizing this deal, who am I to deny him such?" Robin asked.

But pretending she was his fiancee? "I don't know."

"Look, I haven't got time for this now. Let's cut to the chase. I said I was willing to pay someone quite well, and that goes for you too. This dinner is crucial to me, Regina. I don't have to tell you how much. What do you think it's worth for a few hours of work?" Robin asked.

"It's not about the money!" Regina stated.

"In my experience, it's always about the money. Shall we say ten thousand dollars?" Robin asked.

Regina gasped, thinking of all she could pay off, and putting some money into her savings for the one thing she wanted more than anything...

"You're right," he said. "Let's make it twenty thousand. Would that be enough?"

Regina's heart almost stopped, even as she felt her eyes widening in response to the temptation. "Twenty...twenty thousand dollars? For one dinner with you?" Regina asked.

"I told you it was very crucial to me. It is enough, do you think, to entice you to have dinner with me?"

Twenty thousand dollars enough! It didn't matter that his tone told her that he was laughing at her. But for someone who had been willing to spend the night with him for nothing, the concept that he would pay so much blew her away. Did tonight really mean so much to him? Was there really that much at stake?

Really, the idea was so bizarre and ridiculous and impossible that it just might work. And besides, what were the odds he would remember her? It had been almost three years ago and in a different city. The day she had met Robin Locksley, she had been in New York, shopping for a friend's baby shower. She had been chatting with a friend as they had waited for the light to change for them to cross, when someone from behind her had pushed her into the incoming traffic. She had barely missed being hit by Robin's limo as the next thing she knew she was looking up into the most beautiful clear blue eyes.

He had asked her if she was alright, did he need to call an ambulance? She had quickly declined, as she could only feel a slight bump to her head where she had made impact with the road. She had been so distracted by him, that she couldn't focus on what he was saying, just heard a few words here and there. Asking her if he could take her to the hospital himself to be checked over, this time she could only shake her head no.

That was pretty much their communication that day and she doubted he even remembered her name, let alone what she looked like. And since then he'd met a thousand women in a thousand different cities, all of them beautiful, plenty of whom he'd no doubt slept with.

This meant she would have one hell of an afternoon ahead of her, if she was to be ready by seven. A glance at the wall clock told her she had less than eight hours to find a saloon to squeeze her into to, and an outfit somewhere.

"Regina?" Robin asked.

"There's a couple of things I have to square away," she decided. "Can I call you back in a few minutes to confirm?"

"Of course," he said, in that velvet rich voice that felt like it was stroking her skin,"Call me. So long as it's a yes."

Robin slipped his phone into his pocket as the car came to a smooth halt outside his hotel. A doorman touched his gloved fingers to his hat as he pulled open the door, bowing his welcome. "We've been expecting you, Mr. Locksley." He handed him a slim pink envelope that bore his name on the front. "Your suite is ready if you'd like to go straight up."

"Excellent," Robin said, nodding his thanks as he strode into the hotel entry and headed for the lifts, feeling more and more confident by the minute. He'd known Regina would soon have that little problem fixed, although maybe he hadn't exactly anticipated her sorting so quickly and efficiently.

What was she like? he wondered as the lift whisked him soundlessly skywards. Was he wrong not to insist on a picture from her to be safe? Originally he'd had looks on his list of requirements, on the basis that if he had to act as someone's fiancee, he'd expected it would be a hell of a lot easier to act the part if he didn't have to force himself to smile whenever he looked at her or slipped his arm around her shoulders. But maybe someone ordinary would be more convincing. Malto didn't strike him as the sort of man who went for looks over substance and, given his circumstances, he'd be looking for a love match in the people he did business with. In which case, some nice plain girl might just fit the bill better.

It was only for one night, after all.

Later that day, Regina felt like she had some idea of how Cinderella must have felt on her way to the ball. Half an hour ago, she'd left her old life behind and was being whisked off in a silken gown to a world she had only dreamed that she would one day be in.

Had Cinderella thought that she would throw up her bagel when she met her Prince? Had she felt this tangle of nerves withering in her stomach as she neared the palace on that fairy tale night? Had she felt this sense of dread that something could go wrong?

Not that her story was any kind of fairy tale. There had been no fairy godmother who could transform her into some kind of princess in an instant with a touch of her magic wand for a start. Only her Visa card and a few boutiques had managed to do that.

Now instead of the coach, she was in a stretch limo on her way. Why was she doing this? Why had she agreed to be Robin's pretend fiancee, when everything inside of her was screaming for not to do it. Why hadn't she insisted on saying no to his crazy idea? Sure the money was going to help a lot, it would help in repairs to her apartment that she desperately needed.

So what was it about this that had made her agree to do it?

Because she was curious?

You want to see if he still has some sort of affect on you as he had three years ago.

You want to those eyes of his are the ones she was born to gaze into forever!

"Ugh!" Regina said to herself, as she shuffled restlessly against the leather. She had to stop thinking like this. It was one night, and one night only and then things could go back to being normal.

She bit down on her lip, remembering only then that she was wearing lipstick for a change and that she shouldn't do that. She had been half tempted to call Robin back and tell him that something had come up, she had had a busted pipe, something, anything.

But she hadn't.

God what had she been thinking, agreeing to go along with this ridiculous idea?

Outside the limo's windows the city of London was lighting up. It wasn't long after seven, the sky caught in that time between day and night, washing with soft shadows that told of the coming darkness, and building were preparing, showing their colors, strutting their stuff.

Just like she was, she thought. She wore a gown of black silk, which cost her the equivalent of a month's salary in her old office job, but she figured the evening called for something more grand than that of her usual chain store purchases. Robin would no doubt expect it, she figured. And she had loved the dress as soon as she had tried it on, loved the look and feel of it over her body. She loved how it brought out her eyes as well.

And now they were there. The driver pulled into a turnaround and eased the car to a stop. He passed her a key card as a doors man stepped forward to open her door. "Mr. Locksley says to let you know he's running late and to let yourself in." She smiled her thanks as he recited a room number, praying she'd managed to remember it as the doorman welcomed her to the hotel.

Breathe, Regina, breathe.

Cautiously she stepped out of the limo, carefully on heels that seemed perilously high, when once upon a time, she would have thought nothing of sprinting to catch a cab in shoes even higher.

And then she stepped through the sliding doors into the hotel and almost turned around and walked straight out again. What was she doing?

She so did no belong here in this amazing place. She was an imposter, pretending to be someone that she was not, and everyone would be able to see through her in a second.

She must have hesitated too long or maybe they recognized her as a fraud because someone emerged from behind the concierge desk and asked if they could help her, "I'm here to meet Mr. Locksley in his suite," she answered

She was shown to the lift that would take her up there, moments later she was walking out onto his floor.

Would he remember her?

Did she want him to?

She shivered, he heart thumping almost out of her chest.

Lift doors pinged softly behind her and she glanced around as a couple emerged from the lift, forcing her to move both her feet and her thoughts closer to Robin's door.

Seriously, why would he remember her? It had surely escaped his memory by now. He'd probably forgotten her the moment she had been seen by a local EMS personnel.

And it was only one night, she kept telling herself, willing herself to relax as she arrived at the designated door. Just one short evening. And then she looked down at the key card in her damp hand and found she had a death grip on it.

Let herself in, his driver had told her Robin had said.

When this was the last place she wanted to be.

She took a deep breath, trying to remember to breathe as she rapped softly on the door. Maybe the driver was wrong. Maybe he wasn't even there...

There was no answer, even after a second knock, so taking another breath she slid the card through the reader. There was a whirr and click and a green light winked at her.

The door swung open to a large sitting room decorated in soft greys and blues. "Hello?" she ventured softly, closing the door behind her. A desk faced the window, a laptop open on top. Through the open door alongside she could just make out the sound of someone talking.

Robin, if the way her nerves rippled along her spine was any indication. And then the voice grew less indistinct and louder as she heard him say, "I've got the figures right here. Hang on..."

A moment later he strode into the room without so much as a glance in her direction, all his focus on the laptop that flashed into life with just a touch, while all her focus was on him, clad in nothing more than a pair of black silk briefs that made nothing more than a passing concession to modesty.

He was a god, from the tips of his damp tousled hair all the way down, over broad muscled shoulders that flexed as he moved his hand over the keyboard, over tan skin that glistened under the lights in the room, and over the tight V of his hips to the tapered muscular legs below.

And Regina felt muscles clench that she hadn't even known she'd possessed.

She must have made some kind of sound, she hoped to god it wasn't a whimper, because he stilled and glanced at the window in front of him, searching the reflection. She knew the instant he saw her, knew it in the way his muscles stiffened, his body straightening before he slowly turned around, his eyes narrowing as they drank her in, so throughly, so heatedly she was sure they must leave tracks on her skin.

"I'll have to call you back," he said into the phone, without taking his eyes off her, without making any attempts to leave the room to cover himself, "Something's come up."

She risked a glance...there...and immediately regretted it, for when she looked back at him, his eyes glinted knowingly, the corners creasing, as if he'd known exactly what she'd been doing and where she'd been looking.

"Regina?"


End file.
